


Barriers

by disdainfullady



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfullady/pseuds/disdainfullady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, this was my first attempt at fanfiction.  An eensy little ficlet.  Written some nine years ago, now.  This was written post season one, but preseason two.  Oh, and there is angst.  Logan POV.  They should never have gotten together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barriers

A year and a half was too long - they should have known better. Too much had happened. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t just treat it all as water under the bridge even if she had been the only one there for him when his mother jumped off of it.

He had thought they could forget. That they could put aside their history and have something normal. He would take her in his arms and for a few hours it almost seemed genuine. She was sweet and wonderful and perfect and it was a lie. They could never be normal again.

He knew her well enough to see when she wasn’t telling him something. He knew she hid the hurt and pain and general fuckedupedness of her life behind the cheerful mask of an ordinary girl. She didn’t trust him. It wasn’t like he could really blame her for that. Shit, he didn’t even trust himself. 

He’d hurt her with every weapon he’d possessed and if other things had hurt her more it wasn’t for lack of trying on his part. And there was no taking it back. No matter how much he touched her she remained remote, inaccessible even though she was right there, unwilling to give him any other ways of hurting her.

He didn’t know who she turned to in moments of crisis. Her dad? Her friend Wallace maybe. All he knew was that it wasn’t him – it would never be him.

She’d get that hard look on her face and he’d know something had happened even while she teased him playfully about something. He’d go home and raid his dad’s liquor cabinet, and wonder who the hell had dared to hurt her - knowing that she would never tell him if he asked.

And the more he saw of her, the more necessary those raids became.

She had known he was drinking more even if she hadn’t figured out the reason. She disapproved of course, and had tried to talk to him about it. A part of him loved that she cared enough to call him out on it. The rest of him hated her for it. Hated her for calling him out on his weaknesses when she would never show him any of hers.

He should have said something. He shouldn’t have let that anger build. But in all their relations there was never a place for a simple honest discussion of the heart. 

The next time she’d brought it up, he had lashed out. All the anger he’d been sitting on through the course of their relationship had boiled up and he’d said the unforgivable. He tore down her defenses the only way he knew how. 

“For God’s sake Veronica, not everyone who drinks automatically turns into your mother.”

He’d said it to hurt her. It worked.

Veronica had recoiled as if he had physically struck her. Her face had crumpled; her eyes were bright with unshed tears. For a second there she was the old Veronica. The Veronica who was so sweet and innocent she made you feel like a fucking white knight for protecting her.

Before the whole world went to hell and her old heroes were the ones who hurt her.

Her response rang in his ears hours after she’d walked out of the room. “You’re right,” she’d said quietly, her face tightening as she replaced the mask he had so desperately wanted to tear down. “My mother was worth saving.”

She hadn’t even bothered to slam the door on him. She just left. God, he should have known better. They should have known better.


End file.
